Green Eyes, Brown Eyes
by black kitti
Summary: [Ch 8 up!] Sydney gets reunited with her dad, meets vaughn. do sparks fly? read and find out... PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

Green Eyes and Brown Eyes

By: black kitti

A/N: this is my first story – please r&r. btw, I'm looking for a beta to help proof read, edit, and for me to bounce ideas off of. If you want to help me out – lemmie know, drop me an email!

**********

"Sydney! Sydney Bristow!"

6-year Sydney Bristow yawned sleepily as she opened up her eyes, awakened from a deep slumber.

Laura Bristow was rummaging through the drawers, pulling out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, tossing them onto the bed.

"Mommy? What's going on?" 

"Nothing sweetheart. We're just going to take a trip, just you and me okay? But we're going to have to be very, very quite alright sweetheart?"

Sydney nodded her head, as she raised her hands above her head, allowing for her mother to slide a sweatshirt over her head.  She scooted to the edge of the bed, slipping off her pajama bottoms, and switching them for a pair of jeans.

"Socks Sydney," Laura whispered, as she poked around in her daughter's small jewelry case. She grabbed a few pieces, and placed them in her pocket.

"Mommy?"

Laura looked up from at her daughter, who's eyes were still filled with sleep. 

"Is daddy coming with us?"

"No sweetheart, Daddy isn't coming with us. He's got a big day ahead of him tomorrow, and he needs to rest. So we need to be really quiet okay? No more talking."

Laura knelt at the side of the bed, slipping the small running shows on her daughter's feet.

"Grab Mr. Bear, Sydney."

Sydney grabbed her favorite teddy bear, and allowed herself to be carried by her mother downstairs to the foyer.

The soft sounds of Jack Bristow snoring echoed through the empty house, the only sound other than the pouring rain. 

Tears were running down Laura Bristow's face as she fumbled with the lock on the front door. She stopped to give Sydney a hug, and her young daughter also crying as well, not knowing why.  She grabbed a small bag, and her keys, and ushered Sydney outside. 

Laura's heart was heavy, as she quietly shut the door, trying not wake the only occupant inside. A sob was caught in her throat, as she shut the door. 

Laura Bristow turned towards the car, walking away from the door that she closed, the chapter of her life that has ending, and a new chapter of her life beginning. 

As she and Sydney sought shelter away from the downpour in the car, Laura Bristow started the car and drove away, never looking back.

~.~

Jack Bristow was woken up by the loud thunder rumbling throughout the house. As he turned towards the right side of the bed, he found the spot empty. His stomach was quickly filled with panic and uncertainty; Laura was a heavy sleeper, sleeping the whole night through.

He wearily shook his head slightly, and opened his eyes wider. He looked towards the bathroom door, to see if his wife was there. 

Deciding to check on his sleeping daughter, he crept slowly down the hallway, noticing the bedroom door ajar. 

The dark hallway was filled with light as the night sky was filled with a bright flash of lightening. 

Poking his head in his daughter's room, he was amazed to find that the bed was empty as well.

He rushed down the stairs, looking for his wife and daughter.

Sitting at the kitchen table alone, Jack sat quietly, watching the rain fall down.

The silence was broken by the sound of the door bell, followed by angry bangs on the door.

Officers Collins and Burns stood in front of Jack Bristow, carrying long faces.

"Jack Bristow?"

"I'm sorry to tell you, but there's been a car accident on the freeway, near hwy 2. A driver couldn't tell where he was going cause the rain was too heavy. He hit a car, and the car that he hit went through the railing of the bridge, and crashed head first into the river embankment."

Jack's knees began to feel week, as if they were going give out. He leaned heavily on the small oak table by the front door, knocking over the small dish containing the keys. It fell, shattering into a million pieces.

"I'm sorry to say, Mr. Bristow, the car that went over the bridge was your wife's. Your wife and daughter didn't survive the crash."

"Noooooooooooooooooo!"

~.~

"Sydney!"

Sydney Bristow snapped back into reality, to see her mother's face staring angrily at her.

"Sorry, Mom. What did you say?"

"As I was saying," Irina Derevko continued," the piece to this puzzle is the Rambaldi pen. It's a fountain pen, a collector's item. The key is not the ink, but the jeweled pattern of the pen itself. It was imbedded with millions of dollars worth of jewels, in a specific pattern, cut with specific shapes. Sydney and Sark, your flight leaves in four hours. You are dismissed."

Sydney, along with the rest of the boardroom shuffled the papers around and filed out of the room. As she was leaving, she heard her mother call out her name.

"Sydney. Stay behind, I want a word with you."

Sydney sighed, as she promptly returned to her seat. She flipped open the files, scanning the page for information about the pen.

"Is everything all right?" Irina sat down beside her daughter, her voice softened, and full of concern. 

"Yeah mom, everything's good."

"You look tired."

"So do you, Mom. Just haven't been sleeping well, that's all."

Irina sighed, shaking her head.

"Alright Sydney then. I just wanted to see how you were. Good luck on your mission okay?"

Sydney plastered on a fake smile, and gave mother a slight nod, as she left the board room, her head filled with emotions that she could not comprehend. 

~.~

Sydney flopped onto her large queen sized bed, staring at the ceiling.  Beside her was a small black suitcase, partially packed.

She walked into the closet, admiring the number of different outfits, hanging on the racks. Dressing up for missions was the only enjoyable part about going on these jobs.

Each outfit was unique, in color, style and elegance. It was the only time when Sydney felt that she could escape from her real life, and take on a character, personality and life. It was her only escape.

Sydney knelt down before a small treasure chest, at the very back of her walk-in closet. She flipped it open, memories flooding her senses.

_Mr. Bear_, Sydney thought, as she smiled, picking up her favorite teddy bear. She gently touched the ears and hands of the small bear, remembering the when she was little, how she would refuse to leave the house without her favorite teddy bear. She buried her face into the soft, velvety fur, inhaling deeply. The scent of her childhood memories enveloped her, nearly brining her to tears. 

'_Everyone has their unique scent_' she thought, not realizing it until she was in the seat of a plane.

She set down her stuffed teddy bear, and continued to rummage around the treasure chest. Her jeans and sweatshirt were placed side by side, the clothes that she had worn when the night she left.

These were the only items left from her childhood, memories that should could never get back, memories that she would cherish forever in her heart.

Things had been different after the night her mother woke her up in the middle of the night. After endless hours of crying on the plane, Sydney and her mother landed in Russia, welcomed by a brocade of men in suits, all calling her mother Irina Derevko. The name  Laura Bristow and the former identity was the last time Sydney ever heard. 

Sydney quickly adjusted to the her new surrounding, believing that if she was good, and excelled at her work, her wishes would  be answered. She simply wanted to go home, but her dreams were dashed as years passed on, and she was immersed in her mother's organization.

Sydney packed the treasure chest, and shut out her old memories, taking a deep breath and focusing on her task at hand. 

Sark had been leaning against the doorframe, watching Sydney stare off into space. He gently cleared his throat, startling her.

"What do you want?" 

Sydney stood up angrily, shooting him dirty looks and she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear.

"And how long have you been sitting there?" 

Sark smirked, and shook off the negativity in Sydney's voice. 

"I was simply inquiring what you would be wearing to the ball tomorrow evening, Miss Bristow. It is better to dress to match, since we are posing as a couple." 

Sark paused, and took a dress off the hanger.

"I think you should wear this. You've never worn it."

Sydney snorted at the sight. One of the only things that she hated abut the  missions was the fact that they were with Sark. They had always been in constant competition the day that he was introduced to her, through Khasinau and her mother. The competition lead to constant lead to constant strives to achieve perfection, creating the perfect team. There was not a single thing in her closet that Sark had never seen her wear on a mission, and she often secretly wished that she could meet someone else that she could dress up for. 

Sydney focused on the dress that he was holding. It was a long red dress, with one shoulder, stretchy but tight, fitting snugly around her curves, and then flowing into an A-line cut at the bottom, with small ruffles.

She shook her head, and took the dress back from Sark. 

"Unsuitable. Where will I hid my weapons? And what happens if I have to fight? I can't in this dress. I can choose for myself."

Sark shrugged, and sauntered slowly out of her closet. 

"As you say, Sydney, As you say."

As Sydney stood alone in the closet, she realized that his suggestion would the dress she'd be wearing the next night.

~.~

"Thanks to Sydney and Sark, we have successfully retrieved the Rambaldi pen without any troubles. Thank you."

Irina Derevko beamed at her daughter, praising Sydney and Sark for the success. 

It meant being one step closer to the secrets of Rambaldi.

~.~

"How did this happen?" Arvin Sloane demanded, slamming his fist onto his table.

"Dixon, Williams, care to explain?"

Agents Marcus Dixon and his partner Angela Williams were clearly avoiding Sloane's glares.

"There was another team. We think it was a rouge team, who's obviously making it known that they are after Rambaldi as well, sir. The pen was stolen from the party before we even got there."

Marshall Flinkman rushed into the room, sweat covering his brow. Sloane gave him a look making poor Marshall wish that he could bury himself into a hole, escaping the wrath of Arvin Sloane.

"Marshall?" Sloane asked, annoyed at the angry outburst. "Why are you late?" 

"I, uh, sir, was downloading security footage, uh, from the party. Uh, sir."

"And?" Sloane's interests were suddenly piqued.

"I cross listed the people who were at the party with the pictures of the guests. There were two people, who were stopped at security, who had some trouble getting in." 

Marshall paused, and pointed the tiny television remote at the screen behind  Sloane.

The image filled up on the screen, a well dressed, blonde haired man, and a brown haired women, in a red dress. 

Sloane squinted at the picture on his individual screen in front of him, disturbed by the image. The woman looked like an identical image of Laura Bristow. He looked up across the room, at the gentlemen who was seated at the other end of the table.

"Jack?"

Jack Bristow was hunched over the screen, absolutely speechless. 

"Marshall, do you have any other pictures of them? A full length one?"

Marshall nodded and immediately, another image flashed on the screen, this time the couple passing the security.  The woman in the picture had lifted her dress slightly, in attempt not to trip on the stairs. 

Jack examined the picture again, a sob catching in his throat. He cleared it, trying to find his voice again.

"It's not Laura, Sloane," Jack spoke, breaking the silence.  

"It's my daughter, Sydney."

~.~

Director Kendall sat at his desk, leafing through the folder lying open on his desk. Deep wrinkles were imbedded in his forehead.

"And how did we lose the pen?" 

Sounds of an angry man shouting loudly outside his office interrupted the silence, giving the two agents a break from Kendall's interrogation. 

Kendall lifted an eyebrow, unamused as the door burst open and Jack Bristow marched in, Kendall's petite secretary trailing in behind him.

"I'm sorry, Director Kendall, sir, but I tried to tell Agent Bristow that you were not to be disturbed."

Jack threw her a dirty look as he threw a folder on Kendall's desk.

Kendall opened the folder, and took a deep breath. He looked up at Jack, with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Catherine, a meeting, now. Ten minutes, get Devlin, op-tech, a couple of seniors agents, and a couple of field agents, now!"

~.~

read and review please!! Make my day!

Wheeeee!

black kitti =^.^=


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A/N: omg – I'm so astonished by how many positive responses I've received so far. Thank you thank you, you guys made my day.. now what really would totally put me over the top – is if you hit the review button again! lol.

So many great questions – so little time for answers.. so I'll try to sum it up quick!

Ship: s/v or s/s? haven't decided yet

Where's Vaughn? He's here… no worries

Laura Bristow = Irina Derevko – no, jack doesn't know but he'll find out, soon enough, soon enough.

********

Agents Michael Vaughn and Eric Wiess stood in the small CIA kitchen, waiting for the next pot of coffee to brew. The sounds of the percolator filled the air and the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air.

"So, dude, how was the ol' ball and chain yesterday?" 

Eric Weiss strolled in casually in to the coffee room grabbing a cup.

"You know she has a name, Weiss. It's Alice, and no, I didn't spend the evening with her. I went out with my mom, who's in town for dinner." Vaughn replied, pouring milk and sugar into his mug.

"I only call her a ball and chain cause you know she is.  She runs a tight ship when it comes to you, Vaughn."

The coffee machine gave loud angry beep and Weiss quickly cut in front of Vaughn, and grabbed the first cup of coffee. 

"Hey!"

Vaughn quickly shoved his friend over and pour himself some of the hot black liquid. 

Kendall's secretary popped her head quickly into the kitchen, sighing loudly. 

"Miss Catherine, how are you this fine morning?" Weiss said, grinning widely, leaning on the doorframe. 

"Better if you two were at your desk, where your supposed to be working," she replied coldly,  turning away from Weiss. "Kendall's called meeting, now, and you're officially late. So get going," she ordered, pointing to the meeting room. "And if I were you, I wouldn't bring your coffee cups into that meeting. He'd skin you alive if he found out you were late because you guys were sitting around in the coffee room."

Vaughn gave Weiss a questioning stare, before heading out towards the meeting room.

~.~

Sydney Bristow lay in awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep.  She pulled back the covers, and made her way down to the kitchen, determine to make herself a cup of hot chocolate.  As she wandered down the dark corridor, she notice a beam of light streaming from her mother's office. She silently crept towards the door, listening to the voices emitting from the office.

"Irina, you must believe me when I tell you something's wrong with Sydney. She's not fully in her game, she seems distracted lately. It doesn't affect our missions, but one day it might. And surely, you've noticed it."

"Sark, I thank you for your concern, but it seems that Sydney is just fine. Perhaps I will talk to her about it."

Sydney's heart sunk to her stomach, worried, but also suddenly infuriated. _How dare he! Sark._ She grumbled softly under her breath as she continued to the kitchen. 

She began rummaging through the cupboards, searching the drawers for the Dutch hot chocolate powder. 

"Did you want some?" She asked, without turning her head. She knew that he had entered the kitchen and was watching her. 

"You're still up, it's so late. And no, thank you." Sark joined Sydney by her side, reaching for a cup and a tea bag.

"So, I take it you heard what I was talking about with your mother, correct?" Sark asked, as he waited for the water to boil. Sydney's face hardened, as she tried to hide the fact that he had found out she was listening. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sark," Sydney lied, turning her face away from Sark, stirring the hot liquid vigorously in the cup.

"You do Sydney, you do."

"Well, if I did, why would I care?" Sydney retorted, angrily.  "How dare you tell my mother that I've been not on my game? Who are you to decided if my performance on the field isn't at my prime?"

"Sydney, he only worries about your well being, darling." 

Irina spoke from the doorway where she had been carefully observing from the last few minutes. 

"Him?" Sydney threw her hands up into the air. "Like hell he cares! He does not care for my well being, or for anything that is alive. For him to care, would mean that hell would have to freeze over first."

"Own," Sark murmured, feigning being stabbed in the heart. "I am deeply wounded by your words. I am a human being you know, Sydney, and I do care."

Sydney curled her fingers in tightly, her knuckles turning white. She was holding back every inch of her body, trying not to unleash an attack on Sark.

"All you care about is yourself, Sark. If  was affected on the mission, I would be endangering your life. All you care about is yourself." Sydney grabbed her cup of steaming hot chocolate, and stalked out of the kitchen. 

Irina grabbed her wrist as she was walking out, pulling her back into the kitchen. Hot chocolate spilled over the sides of the cup, burning Sydney's hand. 

"Sark, leave us," Irina commanded, nodding for Sydney to have a seat at the table. 

Sark grabbed a his tea and sauntered out of the kitchen, not before grabbing a tea towel, and tossing it to Sydney.  She caught it with her good hand, and wiped her burnt hand lightly with it. 

Irina sat down across from her daughter, taking a good look at her daughter, who was swirling the remainder of her hot chocolate in her mug.

"Sydney, he meant well. Yes, I do agree that he is also concerned for his own well being, but Sydney, he isn't far from the truth. You've been off lately, as if something was bothering you."

Sydney's eyes rose to meet her mother's, shocked at her words.

"I would be lying if I claimed that nothing was wrong, but something is. Sark is right."

Sydney sighed heavily, blowing out a long breath of air.

"What's wrong is my own mother turning on me," Sydney replied tensely.

"Is there anything you wanted to tell me? Anything that is bothering you?"

"I just haven't been sleeping well, mom. That's all. Bad dreams, restless nights, the usual."

"Dreams? Bad dreams?" Irina's curiosity had piqued, and she raised her eyebrows, questioning her daughter's words. "About what?"

"The day we left."

It was now Irina's turn to let out a heavy sigh.

"Sydney, we already discussed why we did what we did. There are no two words about it.  Did you need to make an appointment to see Dr. Rowenstein?"

Dr. Rowenstein was one of the many medical personnel employed by Irina Derevko to serve in her corporation.  Sydney as a young child, upon first arrival in Russia had been sent to talk to the therapist, about the night she left her father, her home, and her country in the middle of the night. That man simply frightened her, but eventually helped her compartmentalize her feelings at such a young age. 

Sydney shook her head, wincing at the thought of the cold, impersonal office of Dr. Rowenstein.

"Perhaps you need some time off?" Irina suggested, her brow wrinkled slightly. "Sark can take care of the missions that are coming up, you can take a couple of days off, and just take some time to figure things out?"

"Sure mom, alright."  Sydney stood up abruptly, leaving her mother sitting alone in the kitchen at the table. 

_'Anything to please her mother_' Sydney thought.

~.~

Sydney Bristow's face flashed up on the computer screens in the board room was burned permanently into Michael Vaughn's mind. 

He was surprised to be invited to such an important meeting when he noticed the other agents and directors sitting in the same room.

He noticed Jack Bristow, staring grimly at the picture, grinding his teeth together as the meeting got underway. 

_Wait a minute! Sydney **Bristow**? It couldn't be Jack's daughter, could it?_

Vaughn had remembered Weiss telling him that the soulless bastard actually was capable of having emotions other than hate.  Weiss had spotted a picture in his office, of Jack Bristow and his family, smiling.

Vaughn's intuitions proved to be correct, Jack Bristow had a daughter, who had died in a car accident, when she was six.

It turned out that maybe his deceased daughter wasn't so dead at all, rather alive, her death faked. The fact that she was a spinning image of her mother could confirm it, but Kendall rejected it immediately. He knew the pain and agony Jack dealt with  finding out his daughter and wife were dead.  Signs had pointed that SD-6 had an unconfirmed role in the accident pushed Jack to turn his loyalty to the CIA. The DNA from the body in Sydney's grave proved to be 100% different from Jack Bristow, providing solid evidence that Sydney Bristow's death was faked, and in fact very much alive.

Vaughn still couldn't help admiring her beauty, but was more shocked when he learned that she was part of the organization that constantly beat him to the next precious Rambaldi artifact. He focused again at the paperwork that was spread in front of him on the coffee table. 

It was all the information pulled up about SD-6, KGB and the Rambaldi artifacts. Why he was on the case still baffled him, but he decided that he might make the best out of this assignment while he was on it. Perhaps it was a chance for him to shine, and get the long awaited promotion. Plus, Alice was out at her parents tonight for dinner. He was glad that he had all the paperwork to keep him away from Alice's parents.

Vaughn sighed again, and fell asleep on the couch.

~.~

**CIA head office**

"We have new Intel, gentlemen. SD-6 is hot on Rambaldi's trail, and we need to get on it. Jack's got us information, which takes us to Florence Italy. Vaughn, Weiss - gather up a team, you're going to Italy. And this time, we're getting the damn artifact."

~.~

**SD-6, board room**

Arvin Sloane paced slowly around the room, allowing for the group to admire the beauty of a glass vase,  the next Rambaldi artifact that recently surfaced. He stopped behind Jack Bristow's chair, leaving the room in silence. He took a deep breath. 

"The vase, when it captures the light directly shone through it forms a special pattern, which some how will fit into the grand scheme of things, in Rambaldi's world. It's currently being held in the hands of an art collector, who knows its worth, and has it under tight security."

Sloane turned to face the two agents going on the mission.

"Dixon, Williams don't let me down. We need this artifact and we need it first. Do not come home empty handed. The plane leaves in an hour."

~.~

**Russia**

Irina Derevko briskly walked into the room, sliding two folders down the length of the oak table. 

"Planes leaves in an hour, read up on the flight."

~.~

Vaughn motioned with two fingers at his surrounding team. Moments earlier, he had assigned team positions, where each man would be. He had a team of 20 men going in, making sure that the CIA would hit its target, and pick up the vase.

_A vase? Rambaldi must be on some wild trip._

Vaughn shook his head, and took out his pistol.  He nodded his head, and his men spread out.

~.~

Sydney and Sark hoisted themselves over the garden wall, on the south side of the giant estate, where the garden was. It was the only unguarded part of the house.

~.~

Dixon held his breath as he lifted  the glass case which enclosed the precious vase. His partner, Agent Williams pressed down gently on the two buttons, previously held together by the glass, which would trigger the alarm if any of the pressure changed.  Dixon quickly lifted the vase, and placed it in a specially prepared case. He lowered the case, and motioned for them to leave.

Sloane was going to be extremely pleased.

~.~__

"Boy Scout, do you read me?" Eric Weiss' voice crackled through the comm-link in Vaughn's ear.

"Yeah, base ops, read you loud and clear. What's up man?" Vaughn replied. 

"Two men were taken down, our guys. By the south wall. It was quick dude, but there weren't a lot of people though, apparently."

"Are they okay? Do you think we'll be compromised?"

"No, Kendall still wants the vase. That man cracks a mean whip, man. Get moving, but be careful, boy-scout. You might have some visitors, if you get my drift."

"Thanks man, see you when I get back."

~.~

Sydney lead the way, with Sark watching her back.  The door was slightly ajar, but Sydney dismissed the thought. She opened the door carefully, and poked her head in, Sark rushing in after her, and closing the door.

Sydney was frozen in her spot, shocked to find that the display case was empty.

Sark had wandered closer to the case, examining the scene.

The sound of the hammer of a pistol cocking disrupted the silence.

"Freeze!"

~.~

Vaughn's heart was beating wildly in his chest, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. As he entered the room, he noticed that there were two individuals that had beat them to the vase but also that the display was also empty.

Vaughn cocked the gun and pointed it to the person who has standing in front of him. 

"Freeze!"

**********

Thank you for reading, please hit the review button!! 

;) black kitti =^.^=


	3. chapter 3

Ch. 3

Rating: PG-13 for bad language (sorry – this is your only warning.

Disclaimer – don't own alias, but keep on reading ight?

Distribution – sd-1.com, ff.net. ask if you want it.. 

A/N: not as many reviews as my first chapter.. sniff sniff. Please review.. I thrive off of them! And I know you guys all read.. so please, let me know how it is!! 

Thanks! black kitti =^.^-

**********

"Freeze!"

Michael Vaughn's booming voice echoed throughout the room. 

"Turn around, slowly, your hands in the air."

The person in front of him slowly turned around, her hands slowly ascending into the air.

"Sydney Bristow," Vaughn breathed, shocked at the woman in front of him.  She was more beautiful than the picture that he had seen in the CIA boardroom.

Sydney nearly gasped aloud, surprised he knew her name.  

"Open your hands!" an agent screamed at Sydney, with his gun trained on Sark behind her. 

"Like this?" she asked, grinning midly.  Sydney released her fingers, one at a time, revealing a small cannister that she held in her hand. 

"Oops," she said, smirking. "I forgot that I was holding this." The small silver cannister dropped from her hand, hitting the ground with a thud. It rolled gently towards the agents and the man pointing a gun in her face, and let out a long hiss. Gas and smoke suddenly filled the air, and Sydney kicked gun out of his hand. 

"Let's go!" she yelled out, running to a through the crowd of fallen and choking CIA agents.

"Shit!"

~.~

Sydney shifted uncomfortably in her seat for the 5th time in a row in less than 60 seconds. Failure of the mission made her terribly miserable, loathing the return to the mansion and her mother. She was taught never to fail and despite all the consequences, she failed non-the-less. Irina had always disciplined her growing up for her mistakes, and after Sydney turned 16, she stopped. Sydney began to discipline her self, forcing her body harder in training. Eventually she never made mistakes, only occasional slip ups, which Sark often compensated for.  Sydney sighed softly, pulling her knees closer underneath her body. 

"Will you bloody hell stop moving?" Sark demanded, obviously irritated. A woman sitting in the row beside them in the small aircraft shot them a dirty look. 

Sydney let out a long uncomfortable sigh, frowning at Sark.

"Ever so sorry, darling," she replied, an a mocking British accent, matching his. She uncrossed her legs, bent down, and pulled out her laptop flipping it open.

Sydney stared at the empty computer screen, waiting for the words to come to her. 

"Are you planning to do anything with your laptop, or are you going to stare at it, wishing for the words to magically appear?" Sark whispered in her ear, sending shivers deep down her spine. 

"I'm just thinking," Sydney replied coolly, licking her lips and blowing a slow and steady stream of air out. "Would you care to make an input, obviously since you have something to say? How are with writing essays on the complete works of Shakespeare?"

"Why do you study so hard, at whatever you do, even though it will never come into use? Not considering who we work for," Sark asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I would think that it would be absolutely pointless to spend all your time and effort on something that you will never benefit from. And Shakespeare is one of them. "

"Benefit from?" Sydney huffed, tilting her chin higher. "You can never learn too much, Sark. And, for your information, it's English Literature that I'm studying." The tension between the two was building, becoming more evident with each word spoken. 

"So, you're just learning and doing all this," Sark continued, waving his hand casually in the air, "all this work for nothing? Just your own pure enjoyment. That's some shitty way to spend your time."

"Yes." Sydney snapped angrily, slamming the laptop shut. She turned to face away from Sark shutting her eyes. The real reason why she continued her education was the hope that she'd one day fulfill her dreams of following in her mother's footsteps of becoming an English Literature Professor, the job her other had before she was exposed to the different side of her mother. One that she wished that she never knew. 

~.~

"It was her." 

Agent Vaughn's brow furrowed deeper than before.  "She was the woman that we saw in the picture. I'm sure a hundred percent sure. She, and her partner were just as shocked to find out that someone had got to the vase before us."

"Why didn't you take her into custody?" Jack Bristow demanded, his voice rising as he spoke each word. His face was bright red, the color extending to the very tips of his ears.

"Because, _Agent Bristow_, as I stated in the report, that she dropped a smoke bomb, laced with tear gas. We were surprised, and she got away."

Jack Bristow angrily sat back into his seat, disappointed that his chance of being could've been reunited with his daughter had dissipated. 

Kendall stood up, clearing his throat, silencing the murmurs that had overtaken the room. 

"Well, people, we've got a lot of work to do. Jack has informed us that SD-6 has the vase but also the fact that Sydney Bristow has surfaced, and we know that she's alive, we need to figure out who she's working for, or with.  And Rambaldi, we still need to figure him out. Get moving."

~.~

"Sydney! Get up!" 

Sydney's eyes snapped open, staring into the icy blue eyes of Sark. She pushed him away from her face, sitting up, pulling the covers towards her.

"What the hell do you want?" she mumbled angrily, pushing her hair out of her face. 

"How did he know your name?"  Sark asked, staring at her curiously.

"What?"

"The CIA man, who pointed the gun at you, in Florence."

Sydney sat silently gripping her covers tightly around her. She was silenced by the words of Sark that had suddenly dawned over her. 

_How did he know?_

~.~

Irina Derevko sat calmly at the head of the table, with Sydney on her right and Sark on her left. Open in front of her was the ivory folder, containing the report of the mission.

"Sark came to me with information that he remembered, Sydney." Irina's voice cut through the silence of the night, interrupting Sydney's thoughts.

"Now, I've been thinking for the past 10 minutes to offer an explanation as to why the men you encountered knew your name. The only possible explanation is that you've been identified, on a previous mission. As of now, I'm placing you and Sark on temporary leave from work. We need to do further analysis on this situation. We can't risk having you and Sark in the field, risk getting captured or hurt."

Sydney opened her mouth to say something, but quickly shut it after Sark shot her a evil glare. 

Irina frowned, catching the silent communications between the two who sat in front of her. 

"Perhaps, Sydney, you should go on vacation? Take a rest, a break - you've earned one."

Sydney let out a frustrated sigh.  "Sure, mom," she reluctantly agreed, knowing it was pointless to argue against her mother.

Sark smirked at her, knowing that she had been defeated. Standing up and following Sydney out of the meeting room into the dark corridor, he whispered into her ear, softly "Now, now Sydney. Take a break on your vacation. You know she's right. We need to lay low to avoid getting our cover's blown." Shivers slowly crept down her spine, sending a tingling feeling down to the tips of her fingers.

Sark stopped in the middle of the corridor, watching Sydney walk and disappear into the darkness.

~.~

Sydney smiled contently, lying on a large white towel on the sandy beaches of the beach. It had been a week since her mother commanded that her and Sark were to be taken off of active duty. She had boarded the first jet to a warm, sandy destination, eager to leave the coldness of her mother and the dark cloud that shrouded the organization in darkness. 

Sydney closed her eyes again, forcefully trying to relax and clear her mind of any thoughts. Despite the warmth of the air, crashing waves, and the salty fresh air, she was having difficulties sleeping. The handsome man who knew her name crept into her dreams every night, leaving her awakened and disturbed every morning. Sydney inhaled slowly, and lifted her hand to shade her eyes from the sun.

Shuffling beside her towel caught her attention, and she tilted her view to see what the commotion was all about. Some children were huddled  over something in the sand, screaming and giggling furiously. Sydney smiled at their innocence, saddened that she never had that. A piece of her hair blew into her face, and she absentmindedly brushed it back and tucked it behind her ear. 

"Miss Bristow." 

Sydney silently groaned, recognizing the familiar voice that had interrupted her thoughts. She turned her head to face the man who had spoken.

"Sark. Fancy meeting you here. What brings you here anyways?" Sydney narrowed her eyes, frustrated at finding Sark settling down on a towel next to her.

"I was just wondering if this spot was taken, that's all," he replied smoothly, grinning. 

"Oh, I'm so sure that you were 'just wondering' if the spot was taken." Sydney replied grumpily. "How does it work, that out of all the places in the world to take a vacation, we end up on the same friggin' island?" She flipped herself to lay face down on her towel, propping her head against her arms.

"Your mother actually told me where you were, Sydney, and I thought your vacation destination was a wonderful idea. I'm sorry that I decided to follow you to your vacation, but now that I'm here, I think that I'll be trying to enjoy the rest of my stay here, Sydney. I didn't come here to bother you, as you always assume."

"I never said anything to that effect," Sydney replied curtly, turning her face away from him. Seeing him just made her blood boil, tired of their constant fights, heated discussion and combat training. Since there were partners, they practiced their training together, to synchronize their moves, learn their strengths and weaknesses, and improve on each others skills. It was one of her mother's other _marvelous _ideas. Sydney froze as she felt her hair being lifted from her neck.  A pair of warm hands with cold lotion began to apply the sunscreen lavishly across her shoulders, moving lower down her back. 

"What are you doing?"  Sydney shrieked, wriggling underneath Sark's powerful hands. 

Sark immediately stopped, his hands frozen in mid air.  Sydney tilted her head, looking at her own reflection from his mirrored lenses. 

"You were  starting to get burned, and I thought that I could prevent some serious pain by applying some sunscreen. I was also hoping you'd do the same for me," Sark replied coyly. "Can I continue? Otherwise you're going to tan blotchy."

Sydney frowned, and placed her head on top of her arms. Sark resumed his slow, soothing motions on her back, spreading the cream evenly over her soft skin. His hands slowly returned toward her shoulders, and began a slow massage.  Sydney lifted her head to object, but relented as his fingers expertly worked at her tight muscles.

"You're quite tense, Ms. Bristow," Sark said, focusing on her shoulders. "You've got a couple of knots right here." He pressed his thumb and index fingers into her shoulder, causing a sharp pain, followed by a painful but comforting release. He felt her begin to relax, her breathing slow and deep. 

Sydney closed her eyes, turning her head to the left, so out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sark's knee in the sand. Sark's hand made it's way to the newly exposed area of muscles, and gently probed the area of tense spots. Sydney let out a soft purr,  sending tingles up Sark's spine. Sydney froze. _I purred? How did that happen?_

Sark stopped his gentle back rub, and lifted his eyebrow in amusement. 

"Before you fall asleep, Miss Bristow, I was wondering if you could help me with my back?" He grinned devilishly, holding the bottle in his hand. 

Sydney sighed, and reached for the bottle.

~.~

Anna Espinosa  angrily attacked the hanging punching bag in front of her, letting out heavy grunts as she continued her non-stop assault of jabs, hooks and upper cuts. 

"Anna."

Anna didn't stop at the sound of her name being called. She knew who it was, and she didn't care.  A hand reached forward and placed it on her shoulder, causing her to slow down. She stared straight at her, refusing to give in to her inner desire.

"Look at me," the strong voice commanded, forcing her to relent.

She turned around and stared straight into a pair of familiar blue eyes.

~.~

Several hours later, Anna entwined her fingers with her lover, lying on his shoulder.  Sark reached out with his free hand, and played with her long brown hair, twirling and untwirling it.  Anna breathed in, and let out a deep sigh.

"You aren't still angry, are you love?" Sark asked, shifting his body so he could see her face. Anna frowned, looking away from him. He reached out with one hand, and cupped her face gently.

"I missed you, Anna," he said, pouting at her. She looked into her face, and gave him a knowing glare. Sark frowned even deeper, and gave her his best attempt at puppy eyes. She cracked a smile, playfully pushing his shoulder. 

"Like those even work, Sark. That attempt was pitiful."

"Why are you angry?" he asked, frustrated at his constant attempts at pleasing her. 

"I'm here, and you're not," Anna said, holding her head high. 

"What do you mean?" Sark asked, knowing the full reason as to what she meant.

"Don't play with me, Sark."  Anna narrowed her eyes, staring down at him. She grabbed his white oxford, and slipped it over her shoulders.

"Anna," Sark grunted, exasperated at the thought of having another endless argument.  "You know we can't help it. Irina wants something, and whatever she wants will be done."

"But a double agent for K-Directorate? Why?" She threw up her hand, emphasizing her words. "I'm miserable here, without you, Sark.  Couldn't you simply tell Irina to shove her head up her ass and bring me home? I'm more useful than I am here."

"Anna." Sark's voice brought tingles to her spine. "Irina did us a favor, remember that. Otherwise we would've been orphans living a shitty life in some shit town, so stop your complaining, because it's getting old."

Anna's head whipped around, shocked at his strong words, stinging like a blow to the face.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she screamed, pounding her fists against his chest as Sark's arms enclosed her. She fought herself free, taking a deeper look at him. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she repeated again, her voice shaking with fear. "You've never spoken to me like that before, ever Sark." Sark sighed apologetically, opening his mouth to say something. Anna quickly cut him off before he could utter a word.

"You're different Sark. You used to love me, and agree that us being apart wasn't good for us. You've changed." Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she backed slowly away from him, into a corner, sliding down to her knees, pulling the shirt around her tightly. 

"All that shit is getting to your head isn't it?" 

"Anna, no. Don't start with that bullshit." 

"It is, isn't it. Don't deny it. Being Irina's most precious lapdog, working with her daughter has boosted your ego so fucking high. Get off your pedestal and realize what's real!"

Sark knelt down on his knees in front of the shaking woman, her head in her hands, sobbing softly. 

"It isn't like that, Anna. We'll be together, I promise. The work that you're doing with K-Directorate, brings us great resources. Don't think that we don't know that, love. And working with Sydney isn't all that special." He froze, regretting his choice of words.

Anna looked up, her eyes wide, filled with tears. _He never referred to her as Sydney, but always as Agent Bristow. _ It dawned on her, a burning feeling filling her stomach.

"You asshole. It's her! You've fallen in love with her!"  She pushed his hands away from her shoulders, and rushed past him. Sark angrily grabbed her arm, and pulled her close to him. She pounded her fists violently against him, trying to free herself.  She pulled back her right arm, and let a swing connect firmly with his jaw, stunning her captor and throwing him onto the floor.

"Leave, Sark," Anna said darkly, standing over her former lover. "Leave now before I send you back to your bitch in a body bag."

~.~

Anna's eyes narrowed as she watched Sark's figure leaving the hotel building. 

Sydney Bristow. Pristine and perfect daughter of criminal mastermind Irina Derevko, working her way into everyone's hearts. Including Sark's. But not hers, not before, not now, not ever. Now sworn enemies. 

~.~

a/n (again): I know that this is leaning towards a s/s ship.. but give it time.. our green eyed agent will come around… (but I do, really do love sark.. yum!)


	4. chapter 4

Sark sat alone in the dark library, admiring the white moonlight streaming through the window. He took a seat on the velvet couch, holding an ice pack to his sore jaw. He ran his left hand through his hair, leaving it messy and tousled. Hours before, he had left the hotel, and Anna,  never looking back. His heart was sore, but Anna's words weren't  completely wrong. His heart, body, soul and mind had been taken over by Sydney Bristow. Her magnificent beauty, cool exterior, and warm smile brought life to him. It took too much energy every day to fight the overwhelming feelings he felt for her. He let out a heavy sigh, and let his head drop back on the couch.

Soft footsteps approached him, but Sark did not open his eyes. He knew who it was, and he was not in any mood going to make an effort to welcome her. 

Sydney sat on the couch, pulling her feet off the floor, and tucking them under her slender body. She gently reached out, and tugged at Sark's hand. He held the ice pack even more firmly to his face, grimacing in pain. 

"Don't be a baby," Sydney whispered, taking her left hand, and gently cradling his other cheek. She turned his head gently toward her, allowing their eyes to connect. She pried the old ice pack away, and dropped it to the floor with a soft, wet thud. Sydney examined the large bruise on his cheek, fingering the outline with her index finger, dragging it lightly across the skin. Sark took a deep breath in, enjoying the sensation that was coursing through his body. He was surprised when she placed a fresh pack to his face, holding it tightly with her right hand. 

"So, what happened?" she asked curiously. "You never been bruised this bad."

Sark could hear the humor in her voice, wanting to know more, but he wasn't willing to tell. 

"It was Anna, wasn't it."

Sark tensed, and Sydney knew she found out that he had been beaten up by a girl. 

"It's none of your bloody business, now is it Sydney, if it was or wasn't Anna?" Sark replied sternly. His shoulders dropped, knowing that he  was in defeat. Sydney could see right through him on certain things – especially Anna. "Plus, she caught me off guard," he admitted sorely.

"I'm sorry," Sydney said softly, shifting her weight slightly. She let the ice pack drop into his lap and stood up to leave. Sark caught her hand, and pulled her back onto the couch. He pulled her hand, and placed the icepack into her palm. He held it to his face, holding her hand with his. Sydney smiled, shifting closer to his body. Sark closed his 

eyes, breathing deeply, enjoying the moment. 

Irina looked on a the couple from the doorway, her presence unnoticed. 

~.~

Irina Derevko sat in the brightly lit boardroom, admiring her surroundings. Every chair was lined up accordingly around the long oak table, and each computer screen was perfectly poised, every angle identical. The years that she worked for, diligently, have resulted in a huge powerful organization. 

She sat quietly as people filed into the room slowly, taking their appropriate places around the table. Sark and Sydney were the last to enter, taking their seats on the right and left side of Irina. Folders were quickly passed around, and the room fell silent. 

"As you know, two identities of our most important agents have been compromised. Our identity has not been fully revealed to our enemies, but they are now looking for us, and the purpose of our existence." Irina paused, taking a deep breath. "Our work will become increasingly more difficult because we have more work to do. We need to find out who knows about our organization, while researching and capturing the Rambaldi artifacts."

Irina quickly surveyed the room, examining each individual's facial expression. Accepting everyone's decision to stay under her reign, she nodded at Sark who quickly jumped up at her attention.

"Our next mission will be split into two groups, it will be a simple re-con…."

~.~

Jack Bristow was sitting alone in his office. A single desk lamp illuminated the dark room, the light glaring off the solitary picture frame, a picture of Sydney, Laura and himself at the beach. Jack swallowed the remaining scotch in his glass, grimacing but welcoming the warming feeling in his stomach. 

Michael Vaughn stood in the doorway, watching the older man deal with the news of his daughter being alive. He shuddered at the thought, not wanting to feel or understand his emotions, but feeling some pity towards the man.

"Sir?"

Jack looked up to see Agent Vaughn standing in the doorway. Jack nodded in acknowledgement, no words coming out of his mouth. 

"I'm truly sorry that we couldn't bring your daughter home," Vaughn said. "I promise though, I'll try to help bring her in the next time we meet her, sir."

"Thank you," Jack Bristow murmured, tears filling in his eyes.

~.~

Sark strolled through the wide corridors of the LAX, carefully surveying the airport as he found his way to the taxi stands. He mentally memorized exit doors, staff only sections, bathrooms, adjoining corridors and other entrance gates. 

His mission was quite simple, he was to visit a local club and pick up a package that Irina had arranged for earlier. 

A woman with brown shoulder length hair walked by him dressed in a business suit. She stopped by a magazine stand, briefly scanning the shelves. She reminded him of Sydney. Sark smiled at the thought, remembering 

their close encounter a couple nights earlier. FOCUS! His brain screamed, shaking him back to reality. 

Sark shook his head, knowing that he'd have to do something about his uncontrollable feelings for a certain brunette agent. 

~.~

_Right jab - Left jab - Right jab - Left hook- Right upper cut- Left foot jump kick_

_Left jab – right jab – left jab – right hook, left upper cut – right foot jump kick_

Sydney punched the bag viciously, grunting each time her taped hands hit the bag. Her mission was successful. A slight movement caught her eye, as she noticed Sark leaning in the doorway, watching her moves. 

"Spar?" she called out, breathing heavily. 

Sark smirked as he grabbed the roll of tape that she tossed at him.

An hour later, Sydney held up her hands, pausing for a quick break. Sweat was pouring off both of them, and the air carried the stench of their sweat. 

"Not bad," Sark commented between gulps of water.

"Not bad?" Sydney replied, ripping the tape off of her hands, revealing small cuts and bruises on her knuckles. "I say pretty good considering I whooped your ass a couple of times."

"Only cause I let you," Sark replied, wiping his brow with a towel. 

Sydney snorted, as she took a place on the mat, stretching her arms out in front of her. Sark sat down beside her, watching her as she gracefully stretched out her muscles. He held a towel out to her, interrupting her fluid movements. Sydney eyed him wearily, but decided not to question his sudden streak of kindness.

"Thanks," she said, accepting his offer. 

"I think I'm going for a quick swim," Sark said thoughtfully, his mind currently focused on the possibility of having Sydney joining him. "Would you like to join me?"

Sydney gave up on her stretches, exasperated. 

"What is wrong with you? What happened to the evil, sinister, sarcastic Sark?" Sydney demanded, looking up into his blue eyes. She immediately regretted the harsh words that had spilled out of her mouth.

"Sark, I'm sorry.."

"Don't bother Sydney," he replied, looking hurt. He quickly stood up, making his way to the exit. 

"I'll be down in five," Sydney called out to his back, guilt overcoming her senses. Sark smiled secretly to himself. 

~.~

Sydney sat at the pool edge, letting her feet hang over the edge into the sparkling cool water. What am I doing here? Sydney thought to herself. She didn't notice Sark swimming up to her underwater. He pulled her into the water, earning a loud shriek from his victim. 

"What did you do that for?" Sydney sputtered, splashing him in retaliation.

"Well, the point of a pool is to swim, Sydney, or at least be in the water. I was simply lending a hand," he replied, laughing at her. He splashed her again, and this time Sydney couldn't help but laugh.

"You're so dead," she giggled, lunging towards him. Sark grabbed her as she jumped on him, and pulled her close to him. Sydney froze in his strong embrace. 

"As for the question before, nothing is wrong with me, Sydney," Sark whispered into her ear. "I'm not really a bad person, you know." 

Sydney looked deeply into this blue eyes, noticing the change in them. Instead of anger, she saw a small twinkle and before she knew it, he had leaned in and was kissing her passionately.

The kiss was soft and delicate, the tingling feeling lingering on her lips as he drew away from her slightly.

"You're a very beautiful woman Agent Bristow," he whispered as he tightened his embrace around her. He gave her a small, shy grin and leaned in for another kiss. 

Sydney leaned in and kissed him passionately. Her tongue began seeking his, surprising him. He opened, allowing for more access. Sydney grinned wickedly as she suddenly drew away, leaving his mouth wide open. She piled all her strength on his shoulders, dunking him into the water and wiggling out of his embrace. As Sark resurfaced, he saw Sydney laughing hysterically as she backed away from him. 

"Gotcha!" she shrieked, sticking her tongue out. She began to swim towards the deeper end of the pool.

"This is war, Bristow," Sark bellowed, before following in suit. A great smile crept up on his face as he swam towards Sydney. This is definitely war, Sark thought, but the battle for Sydney has already been won!

~.~

Sydney snuggled deeper in to Sark, who had an arm wrapped around her. Her feet were propped up on the arm rest of the loveseat.

It had been 4 months since Anna had thrown Sark out of her hotel room, and 2 weeks since their flirty play fight in the pool. Sydney smiled contently, coming to the realization that she was in love with Sark. Most of their time spent together was spent in silence, simply enjoying each other's embrace. When they talked, they had deep conversations about literature, music and everything under the sun and moon. Deep in her mind, Sydney wondered what brought on the change, but she knew never to question it. Overwhelmed by the emergence of the new Sark, Sydney had 

simply accepted it and enjoyed it. 

"Sydney?" Sark looked at her, staring at her face curiously. "What do you think?"

"Think about what?" she replied sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"That's alright," he replied, running a free hand through his hair. His other hand found his way to the long brown locks of her hair, and he absent-mindedly began to thread his fingers through it. "What were you thinking about? I certainly hope it was about me," he questioned jokingly. 

Frowning, Sydney playfully hit him on the leg. 

"You think it's all about you all the time," she replied, haughtily. "You and your over-sized ego."

Sark lifted an eyebrow, wiggling it questioningly. Sydney couldn't help but giggle. 

"So you were thinking about me and my oversized ego, then."

Sydney moved to sit, straddled in his lap, grinding her hips into his. She leaned in to kiss his soft lips.

"Absolutely." 

~.~

Sydney never imagined making love to Sark would be so fantastic. Their first time together, Sydney had returned home from a mission, tired and exhausted. She had gone to visit Sark in his quarters to find the room lit in soft candle light, with rose petals scattered on the floor. Sark had snuck up on her, surprising her with a glass of champagne. 

"I couldn't stop thinking about you, all weekend while you were in Paraguay. I turned all my energy into doing this," Sark whispered softly into her ear, leading her around the room.

On the end table, chilled chocolate covered strawberries lay on a silver platter, alongside more chilled champagne. 

Sydney turned to face him, the fatigue still evident in her eyes. 

"Sark, this is so lovely," she began. He quickly silenced her with his finger.

"Shhhh. I know you're tired, so you can rest and relax in the bath." He pointed to the adjoining en suite where the candlelight was flickering off the walls. He lead her to the bathroom where the tub was filled with steaming hot water and rose petals. Sark peeled her clothes off gently, and helped her step in. 

Sydney closed her eyes as Sark began to massage her tense shoulders, melting the knots away. She obediently lifted each arm and leg as Sark washed her gently with a soft wash cloth. 

"Feeling better?" he asked, kissing her on her forehead. 

"Much," Sydney replied, grabbing his head and gently pulling it towards her. Her spirit was re-energized as she began to kiss him. The kisses in the beginning were soft, sweet and affectionate. Sydney rose to her knees, wrapping her wet arms around him, deepening each kiss. 

"Sark," she gasped, as his kisses left her mouth and traveled down her neck. "Please, Sark.."

"What?" he murmured into her neck. 

"I want you, tonight," she replied, her breasts rising in sync with her heavy breathing. "Make love to me, Sark. Make me scream your name, make love.." Sydney stopped, silenced by Sark's lips crashing onto hers. 

Sark lifted her out of tub, and carried her into the next room. 

*.*

Sydney took a look at the calendar, pausing to count the days. Two weeks late. A small timer went off, breaking the silences.

The little plastic stick confirmed her suspicions. 

Pregnant.

~.~

"You've certainly been happier, Sydney," Irina commented dryly after the quick impromptu meeting. "Absolutely glowing."

"Actually, yes mother, I've been really happy." Sydney tried incredibly hard to restrain the creeping grin on her face. She had yet to tell  Sark the good news, and was intent on letting him know first. Irina eyed her wearily and continued on. 

"I'm glad things are working out with Sark. I have some bad news though, about one of our doubles," said Irina. "Anna didn't work out with K-Directorate. One of my other contacts inside alerted it to me, that she had turned to the other side."

Irina paused, examining Sydney's facial expression.

"I'm planning to send you on a mission to either bring her home, or terminate her position with K-Directorate."

Sydney nodded silently, not knowing what to say or do. She wanted to close her eyes, crawl under the covers and cry. Why did she choose me? And why Anna?

"Whatever you do, you must not alert Sark to any of this. As former lovers, I'm not sure how he'd react to my commands and you carrying them out, understand?"

Irina handed a folder to Sydney and walked out.

~.~

That's it so far folks – if you'd be ever so kindly to hit the reply button – perhaps you'll see more soon!

;) 

ciao!

black kitti


	5. chapter 5

****

Chapter 5  
  
A/N: I must apologize for posting the chapter so late, but I've been busy writing my other fic. But do not worry – this story is far from neglected. 

Thanks for watching out for the updates – and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Thanks to my fab-u-lous beta – who did an great job!

dark angel  
  
  
~.~  
  
  
Sydney woke up to the sound of the light tapping of the rain on the windows. The dark room was suddenly filled with light, and then returned to darkness. A quiet rumble filled the air, growing louder and louder, shaking the entire house. Sark's arms tightened around her, pulling her back closer to his chest.   
  
  
Moments later, a loud blaring noise filled the air. Sark groaned loudly, reaching over Sydney to slam the snooze button.  
  
"It can't be 6:30 am already," he muttered, settling back underneath the comforters. Sydney turned in his arms to face him, gently caressing his face. She smiled at the prickly feeling under her fingers, running her hands across his morning stubble.  
  
"You never let it grow," she murmured, kissing his chin. Sydney laughed out loud, at the thought of Sark with facial hair.  
  
"I would never let myself grow a beard, or a goatee. It doesn't suit me, darling," Sark replied, rubbing his hand over his chin. "Plus, I know you like it when I'm clean shaven."  
  
"Hmmmm," agreed Sydney, leaning over and kissing him again. "I would never let you grow it that long, but a little stubble once in a while is okay. It tickles when I kiss you!" She rubbed her nose under his, enjoying the textured sensation.   
  
"It tickles, now doesn't it?" Sark replied, opening his eyes to stare at Sydney. "Like this?" he began to tickle her.   
  
"Hey, hey! No fair!" Sydney gasped, writhing under his touch. She couldn't help but laugh and giggle at the stern look on Sark's face as he continued his tickling rampage. She found herself suddenly underneath Sark's body, his eyes wide open, his icy blue eyes sparkling. He stopped as he lowered himself on to her.   
  
  
"I haven't greeted you properly, Ms Bristow," Sark said in mock sternness. "Good morning, milady," he whispered, before giving her a passionate kiss.   
  
"Good morning," Sydney replied, pulling him down for another passionate kiss.   
  
~.~  
  
Sydney sat at the table, sipping on a tall glass of orange juice. Sark stood across from her, at the stove, preparing breakfast.   
  
"That was one hell of a good morning," Sydney said above the sound of the sizzling bacon. She sat back and smiled, admiring her adoring boyfriend in a large white apron.   
  
"I'm not going to argue with that," Sark replied, chuckling softly. We're amazing together – on missions, in meetings, and definitely in bed. He set down a plate of bacon in front of her, smiling. "Here's some breakfast, you can start on that."  
  
Sydney deeply inhaled the aroma of the fresh bacon, and quickly pushed the plate away, holding her hand over her mouth.   
  
"Sydney?" Sark asked, with a worried expression written all over his face. "Sweetie? You don't want bacon today?"  
  
Sydney nodded, getting up from her seat, and grabbing a box of salted crackers from the cupboards. _I guess bacon is out of the question_, she thought, munching on a cracker. Sark pulled her into a hug, cradling her delicately.   
  
"Is everything alright?" Sark questioned, rubbing her back softly. "You haven't been feeling well for the last couple of days." Sydney looked up at him, smiling at his overwhelming concern over her well-being.  
  
"Sydney," Irina called out. "You ready for the day at the spa?"   
  
_How clever_. Sydney thought. A day trip to the spa, a cover for the mission she was going on – the mission to see Anna. Her mother was actually going to a spa, and Sydney was going to do her dirty work. Sydney sighed.  
  
"Coming mom, coming," Sydney replied, her spirits down. "I'll see you tonight, darling," she said to Sark, reaching up to give him a quick peck on the cheek.   
  
"Tonight then, my love." Sark grinned, as he watched the love of his life leave with her mother, oblivious to the events unfolding right before his eyes.  
  
~.~  
  
Sydney was dressed in a simple pair of black jeans and a black sweater. She grabbed her a bag from her office, packed with the necessary equipment required for the mission, and left with her mother, under the false pretense of going to the spa.  
  
So much for telling Sark the good news.  
  
~.~  
  
Sark looked at the mirror, running his hand over his chin.   
  
Maybe I shouldn't shave this morning. Sark paused for a moment, and decided against it. He grabbed the small can of shaving cream, and pressed the button. Small bits of foam flew out in a loud whooshing sound. Empty! He tossed it into the bin beside him, but it missed, clattering onto the floor.   
  
Sark picked up the empty can and tossed it beside a pink box in the garbage bin. Curious, he picked up the box. A pregnancy test. Sark's heart began beating faster and faster as he picked up the bin and spilled the contents over the floor. At the bottom of the bin, a white plastic test stick tumbled out.  
  
Sark picked up the stick, and looked at the results. He read the results from the box, and looked at the stick again. He slumped down to the floor, feeling like his heart had dropped to his stomach.   
  
Sydney's pregnant. I'm going to be a father.  
  
~.~  
  
Anna stepped out of the shower quickly toweling off her wet body. Grabbing her white bathrobe, she quickly tied the belt around her waist. She examined her outfit that she had laid on the bed prior to taking a shower, silently debating whether or not it was an appropriate outfit for the day.   
  
  
Anna froze for a second, spinning around to see a figure seated in the sitting chair by the bay window. She immediately recognized the stranger.  
  
"Sydney Bristow. How are you?" she greeted coolly.   
  
"Lovely, and yourself? You've got a lovely apartment here," Sydney replied, setting down the newspaper she was reading.  
  
"Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" snarled Anna. "I know why you're here, and you're clearly wasting your time."  
  
"If you know why I'm here, then please tell me what I want to know then," taunted Sydney. "Why did you leave, Anna?"  
  
"Derevko's been holding me back, and being a double agent, it made me see how valuable I could be to your enemies."  
  
"Is that all?" Sydney questioned, knowing something else had provoked her to leave. She watched Anna slip into a pair of slacks and a sweater, tying her wet hair up in a tight pony tail.  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
~.~  
  
Sark waited impatiently as he was on hold on the phone, trying to get a hold of Sydney. He absent-mindedly flipped through some pieces of paper on Sydney's desk.   
  
"Hello, sir?" the receptionist asked.  
  
"Yes?"   
  
"I'm sorry, I don't have a Sydney Bristow registered at our spa today. Or any of the other names you've given us sir. I hope you find who you're looking for." She hung up, leaving Sark staring at the receiver.  
  
Grumbling, he slammed the phone down, and sat down in the leather chair. He noticed a white manila folder lying on the desk in front, and opened it.   
  
After scanning the contents briefly, he jumped out of his seat running out of the office.  
  
~.~  
  
"It's about Sark, isn't it?" Sydney asked, knowing she'd hit a nerve with Anna.  
  
"What do you think, bitch?" Anna yelled, angrily throwing her towel on the bed. "He f****** left me for you."  
  
"It's not like I seduced him," Sydney replied, her eyes are narrowing.  
  
"Yeah, but you f*** him don't you?"  
  
"Anna," Sydney began, evening her tone. "I'm here to ask you to come back, work for us. You know K-Directorate will just use you, and throw you in the gutter when they're finished."  
  
"It's not like working for Derevko is any better." Anna stared angrily across the room, a fiery look in her eyes. "Why would I want to work for her anyways? Or you for that matter."  
  
"What the f*** do you mean by that?" Sydney asked, her shoulders tensing. Anna started to pace around the room, closer and closer towards Sydney.   
  
"We all know what it means, Sydney," Anna spat out, her words sending chills down Sydney's bones. "You're her precious little girl , and one day, when the old bag dies, you're going to be the one taking over her little empire. She's training you. Don't you see that? Don't tell me you're that naive."  
  
Sydney stood across from Anna, stunned by the words her mind reeling from the truth. Anna suddenly lunged at Sydney, throwing a punch at Sydney's jaw. Catching the blow by surprise, Sydney landed on the ground but quickly jumped onto her feet, taking a ready stance.  
  
"You know Sark's right. You've got a nasty hook when you're caught off guard." Sydney rubbed her jaw, shifting back and forth on the balls of her feet.   
  
"It's your own damn fault Sydney," Anna retorted, bringing her hands up in front of her face. "Ready?"  
  
Anna lunged again, with a series of kicks and punches, which Sydney skillfully avoided. Pausing for a moment, Sydney began to launch her own assault on Anna, managing to knock her against a wall.  
  
Anna let out a blood curling scream as she sprung at Sydney from the ground, throwing Sydney onto the small wooden coffee table. The table splintered upon impact, Sydney groaning in pain.  
  
Anna stopped momentarily her assault as someone pounded the door of the apartment. After a few moments of silence, Sydney and Anna began to fight again, rage seen in both their eyes. The door suddenly flung open.  
  
  
"Sydney? Anna?"   
  
Both women froze, staring at the intruder.  
  
"Sark!" Sydney cried out, letting her guard down. Anna took the opportunity, and kicked Sydney squarely in the abdomen, sending her flying across the room. Sydney hit the wall, falling on her side on to the ground. Sark stood frozen in the doorway, his heart feeling like it dropped to his feet.   
  
Anna stood across the room with a semi-automatic in her hand, poised at Sydney. Sydney rubbed her eyes, opening them gently to see Anna pointing a gun at her. She flinched at the sound of the gun shot, bracing for pain.   
  
  
She opened her eyes to see Anna lying on the ground, a bullet to the head, Sark standing at the doorway, a pistol in his hand. Sydney opened her mouth to call out his name, but before she could do so, the room faded to black.  


**

so, please review.. it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside!

d.a.


	6. chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
A/N: I thank you for everyone's fantastic reviews... it's definately inspired me to write more, and finish this story. it's far from ending - cause good stories can never be rushed but i have fantastic ideas coming up for my next fic. but I promise! i will not abandon this fic until it's done, and as long as i have reviews, I will write!   
  
thanks for reading. it means the world to me!  
  
_dark angel _  
  
  
***  
  
Sydney's eyes fluttered open, to find the room filled in darkness. Panic swept over her, fear gripping her chest making it impossible to breathe. Gasping for air, she calmed herself down, realizing that she was lying in a bed, covered with fluffy white comforters, her head supported by soft pillows. Her entire body ached, and her wrist was wrapped in a tensor band.  
  
Sydney turned her head to look around, but quickly stopped, her neck aching. Her mouth was dry, her tongue swollen. Raising herself up on her elbows, she tried to sit up, quickly stopping, a small cry escaping from her lips. Her hands flew to her stomach, as she carefully touched the painfully sore area. Tears began streaming down her face, sobs overcoming her.   
  
The door opened, flooding the room with light. Sark crawled in beside her, holding her in his arms, smoothing out her hair, whispering softly in her ear, assuring her everything was all right. Tears came to his eyes as Sydney gripped him tightly, her nails digging into his arm.   
  
"The baby?" she asked, choking back the tears. "Our baby?" Sydney looked up into his watery blue eyes, looking for an answer.  
  
"I'm sorry love, I'm so sorry."  
  
Sydney's sobs and wails could be heard down the hall.   
  
***  
  
Sydney simply cried herself to sleep, her heart silently mourning the loss of her unborn baby. Sark held her as her sobs became whimpers as she fell into sleep, his heart breaking every time he looked at her. He gently laid her down, pulling the covers to her chin and left the room.  
  
***  
  
"Sark?"   
  
Irina looked up to see Sark standing in the doorway of her office, a grim look on his face.  
  
"I'm sorry for your loss Sark."   
  
Sark's eyes met hers across the room, as he shuffled his feet across the floor to take a seat in the leather chair.   
  
"She was pregnant, you know?" Sark said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We were going to have a baby."  
  
"I know, Sark, I know. I'm sorry," Irina murmured, standing up and moving around her desk, sitting on the top of her desk to be closer to Sark. "I just never expected..."  
  
Irina was cut off by a voice at the door.   
  
"You knew?"   
  
Sark and Irina looked up, in shock.   
  
"Sydney, sweetheart." Irina was on her feet, urging her daughter to have a seat in an empty chair.  
  
Sark jumped up, standing on his feet, realizing the impact of Irina's knowledge and root of Sydney's anger.   
  
"You knew?" Sydney shrieked again, tears streaming down her face. "You knew and you sent me on a mission." Sark placed his hand on Sydney's, and squeezed it softly.   
  
"I never expected the mission to go like that," Irina explained as she watched Sydney huddle in the chair next to Sark.  
  
"But you sent me on it, knowing that there was a possibility of danger. You always know that there's a possibility of something going wrong, mom." Turning to Sark, Sydney looked at him squarely in the eyes.  
  
"What happened to Anna?"  
  
  
Sark sat in his seat, her words echoing in his head. What happened to Anna?  
  
  
_"Drop your gun Anna, now!" Sark yelled across the room.   
  
  
"f*** you, Sark. Make me."   
  
"Anna, will you just please put the f****** gun down? Let's talk about this."  
  
Anna stood staring at the limp body on the floor. It seemed too easy to kill her while she was down, but a kill was a kill. Releasing the safety lock on her weapon, she looped her index finger and squeezed the trigger.   
  
***Shot*  
  
*Shot* **  
  
Two bullets fired through the room, sending Anna to the ground. Still standing in the doorway of the room, Sark stood firmly, his gun still smoking.   
  
Running to Sydney lying on the ground, he picked her up hugging her close. He noticed the bullet hole in the wall, next to her head.   
  
Two bullets were fired. Anna missed her target, Sark hit his. Gently picking up girlfriend up, he left the room, leaving the lifeless body of his former girlfriend behind. _  
  
  
  
  
Sydney slowly got up from her chair, backing away from Sark and her mother.   
  
It had hit her – Sark found out about the mission, and he had saved her – by killing Anna. Overwhelming feelings of grief and guilt flooded her senses. Sydney began to run out of her mothers office, but stopped, leaning on the doorframe for support. Gasping for air, the room began to spin. Sydney could feel the bile rising in her throat.  
  
Sark rushed towards her, reaching out and grabbing her arm. The last thing Sydney saw were his blue eyes, before she fainted.  
  
***  
  
Panic swept over Sydney Bristow again for the millionth time today. Events came back to her, painfully one at a time.   
  
Tears began running down her face as she came to the realization that her baby was gone, and her mother was one of the reasons behind it.   
  
Sark sensed that she was awake, and he turned to face her, his arm looping around her waist and pulling her towards him. Sydney tensed at his actions, moving his arm away from her and slipping out of bed.   
  
"Sydney," Sark called out, his voice smooth and gentle.  
  
"Not right now, Sark," she answered, her voice catching slightly. Sark silently crept out of bed, walking to embrace Sydney from behind.   
  
Sydney couldn't help but cry.   
  
***  
Months had passed before everything began to feel right, or at least better between Sark and Sydney. The close mother- daughter relationship was still strained, Sydney having issues and feelings of heavy guilt overcoming her every time she went on a mission, stepped into a meeting room, or was sitting with her mother at the same table.   
  
Irina was concerned, like every good mother, but she knew in her heart that the only thing that would heal her daughter's pain was time.   
  
***  
  
"Let's go away, together, love," Sark said, running his fingers through Sydney's brown hair. Her head was resting on his bare chest, moving as he breathed. Her fingers were threaded through his free hand, squeezing slightly at different intervals.   
  
"All right," Sydney answered, not bothering to look up into his eyes. In fact, she avoided looking into his eyes as much as possible. As they began to become intimate, she couldn't bring herself to look into his eyes. Every time she did, she was painfully reminded of the possibility of looking to the same blue eyes of her baby, their baby that never made it into the world.   
  
"Are you all right, Sydney?" Sark lifted her chin so he could look in to her eyes, but to his dismay, she quickly turned away from him, and rolled over on her side.  
  
"I'm just tired, that's all." _'Tired of all this. _Her life working with her mother, stealing, lying and allowing for her emotions to be abused,' Sydney thought to herself. She felt Sark's arm wrap around her, spooning her closer to him. Too exhausted to complain or move it away, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.   
  
***  
Sark and Sydney arrived at their all inclusive resort in Cuba, for a week's worth of vacation time, relaxing in the surf and soaking up the sun. Often though, Sark went into the small city to do some business. Sydney knew better.  
_  
"Are we on vacation? Or are you here on business?" Sydney demanded one night in their hotel suite one evening.  
  
"Haven't you heard of the phrase 'kill two birds with one stone?'" Sark replied, his eyes dancing with laughter. Sydney scowled at him, narrowing her eyes.   
  
"Oh darling, it was a joke. On vacation. I was simply checking my messages, and Irina wanted me to do something for her." Sark quickly said, tossing back his drink.   
  
"Bull s***, Sark. I can't believe you decided to bring me here on vacation and do my mother's dirty work for her."  
  
Sark cut her off, his tone firm.  
  
"Believe what you will, Sydney, but can we just forget about this and go to dinner? I have reservations made for us." Sark extended his hand, inviting her to join him.  
  
Sydney looked into his icy blue eyes that sparkled. She could never say **'no' **to those baby blues.   
  
**Reluctantly, Sydney took his hand and smiled... **_  
  
That was forty-eight hours ago.  
  
Now, Sydney Bristow was sitting at a metal desk in a small interrogation, with a grated lamp swinging from the ceiling.   
  
On the other side of mirror, Jack Bristow bit his lip as he looked at the woman sitting in the room, holding himself up by leaning on the sill of the mirrored window.  
  
**His daughter was home. **  
  
***


	7. chapter 7

**Chapter 7**  
  
A/N: **OMG **i'm so sorry this chapter is so late... it's been done for a while, but i was away this weekend, and my lovely beta has also had a terribly long week. i'm still working on this, and i do ever so adore all of your reviews! keep on telling me what you want to see happen, etc.  
  
love you guys lots!  
  
_dark angel _  
  
~*~  
  
Previously on Green Eyes**, Brown Eyes: **  
  
_Reluctantly, Sydney took his hand and smiled...   
  
That was forty-eight hours ago.  
  
Now, Sydney Bristow was sitting at a metal desk in a small interrogation, with a grated lamp swinging from the ceiling.   
  
On the other side of mirror, Jack Bristow bit his lip as he looked at the woman sitting in the room, holding himself up by leaning on the sill of the mirrored window.  
  
His daughter was home. _  
  
~*~  
  
**48 HOURS AGO**  
  
Sydney sat across from Sark, looking out the window at the beautiful view. The sun had begun to set, an orange glow filling the sky.  
  
Sark held her hand, squeezing it to bring her back to his attention.   
  
"Sydney, darling, I have something that I've been meaning to say to you for a very long time." Sark began, licking his lips nervously.  
  
"Yes?" Sydney smiled at his nerves, never seeing it before.  
  
"In the room, when you asked me if I had an ulterior motive for bringing you here on vacation, well, I was lying."  
  
"Oh really?" Sydney pulled her hand out of his, at the shock of his words.  
  
"I love you Sydney, and we've been through a lot. Everything that we've gone together has made us stronger, and I think it's time to reveal my true feelings."  
  
Pausing for a moment, Sark reached in his breast pocket of his jacket to pull something out.   
  
"Sydney Bristow, will you marry me?"  
  
~*~  
  
72 hours ago, the CIA had received intel that a secret deal was going to be made.  
  
Agent Michael Vaughn was called to head up the team.   
  
Location: Cuba  
  
~*~  
  
Sydney could hardly believe her ears. She stared back at the man who sat across the table from her. He had intentionally asked her to Cuba – to marry him.   
  
Suddenly the phone rang.   
  
Sark checked the caller, and looked back at Sydney with an apologetic look.  
  
"Hold your answer love, I've got to take this."  
  
Flipping open his phone, he stood up from the table, setting the diamond ring in front of her. Walking out onto the open patio, he listened intently to the caller.  
  
Sydney picked up the box and examined the ring. Looking through the window, she watched Sark yell into his phone, his facial expression calm, but his shoulders slightly tensed.  
  
Sydney mentally sighed. She did not expect this at all. In fact, it was the last thing she ever expected. Twirling a strand of her hair on her finger, she watched as Sark's facial expression dropped. His eyes met Sydney, as he dropped the phone.  
  
"Sydney!" he yelled, but it was too late.  
  
CIA officers stormed the restaurant, guns aimed at Sydney seated at the table.  
  
"Where is he?" someone yelled at her. Shrinking back in fear and shock, Sydney shrugged her shoulders. As the young agent neared her, she sprung at him, launching a forceful attack, knocking him down and grabbing his gun. She quickly sprung back at her feet, pointing the gun at the head of her next attacker. She found herself staring down the barrel of the gun.  
  
"If I were you, I wouldn't do that," the agent commented dryly. "I won't hesitate, you should know that?"  
  
Sydney looked up into his eyes, recognizing them immediately. It was the same agent who knew her name.  
  
"Sydney Bristow?" Vaughn said authoritatively. "Put the gun down."  
  
"Make me," she replied, her heart pounding. She really didn't want him to – but she wasn't going to get away without a fight.  
  
"Hey Boyscout, he's gone," Eric Weiss hollered into his ear through the comm-link.   
  
"s***," Vaughn muttered. He continued to hold the gun at Sydney.  
  
"Something wrong? Mr...," Sydney said, trailing off.  
  
"You can call me whatever you want," Vaughn said. He mentally slapped himself in the face for saying that. Sydney glared at him, narrowing her eyes.  
  
"Alright then," Sydney murmured. Tilting her head in one direction, she asked "How do you know my name?"  
  
"If you put the gun down, I'd tell you."  
  
"What part of **'make me' **did you not understand?"  
  
"Okay," Vaughn replied. "I'll give it my best shot, no pun intended." Pausing for a second, he looked straight into her eyes. Lowering his gun, he put the safety back on, and dropped it back into his shoulder holster.  
  
"Sydney Bristow, come back with me to the US, your father wants to see you."  
  
Her gun clattered to the floor, followed by her knees dropping to the ground. Vaughn rushed to her side, grasping her body and bringing her to her feet. Leaning on him, she was silent in shock.  
  
Vaughn wrapped his arm around her waist, and walked her to the door.   
  
Less than an hour later, Sydney was boarded onto a private jet.   
  
A jet that would take her back to the States, back to her home, and back to her father.  
  
~*~  
  
"Agent Bristow?"   
  
Jack's secretary popped her head in to the office.   
  
"Urgent phone call, Line 1 sir. Agent Vaughn."  
  
Jack's brow furrowed as he picked up the handset, and hit the line 1 button.  
  
"Bristow."  
  
"Agent Bristow, it's Agent Vaughn, sir. I have good news. I've secured the custody of your daughter. She's on the plane with me, now, flying back to LA."  
  
Jack's heart nearly stopped. He could hear the engines roaring in the background.  
  
"Agent Bristow? Hello?"  
  
Jack snapped back to attention, clearing his throat loudly.  
  
"Fly safe, and bring her home, Agent."  
  
~*~  
  
Sydney sat in the little room, her fingers tapping a rhythmic pattern on the table. She shivered slightly, pulling the jacket tighter around her shoulders. Vaughn had draped his jacket over her when they boarded the plane to keep her warm. She was still wearing the pale blue dress she had chosen for dinner, along with simple sandals to match.   
  
She began to put things in place, in her mind, reflecting on the last couple of hours. She lifted her head as the door open, her body stiffening in a reflexive response to strangers. Her shoulders relaxed as she recognized the face – the agent with the green eyes.  
  
"Here's a cup of coffee, Miss Bristow."   
  
Vaughn set the paper cup in front of her, and took a seat in the opposite chair.   
  
Sydney lifted her eyes to stare coolly into his. Vaughn caught her glare, and looked down at his papers he held.  
  
"Miss Bristow, I have a couple of questions for you. You're right now in the possession of CIA, because you willingly left Cuba to come with us. We will be able to arrange a meeting with your father in due time, but at the moment, to avoid persecution and charges for your past activities, we will need your full co-operation. Do you have any questions?"  
  
Sydney sat silently, holding the warm cup in her hands. "Where's my father? I want to see him."  
  
Vaughn shifted in his seat, leaning back and running his fingers through his hair, leaving it slightly disheveled, sticking up in funny places.   
  
"Cooperate with us, and we'll arrange a meeting."  
  
"No."  
  
"Why are you being so difficult?" Vaughn mumbled, rubbing his chin slightly.  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Why does it matter?"  
  
"Just tell me." Sydney crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back.  
  
"I'd like to know."  
  
"Fine." Vaughn gave up, knowing that she was going to be difficult to work with. "Vaughn, Agent Michael Vaughn."  
  
"Vaughn," Sydney repeated. "Alright then, Vaughn. Now we're getting somewhere. Now listen carefully, alright? I need to see my father right now, and when I do, I will answer all the questions you want me to. That's the deal – take it or leave it."  
  
Vaughn shot Sydney a frustrated look.   
  
"No. **You **answer **my** questions, then you'll see your father."  
  
"Leave!" Sydney shouted, spilling the cup of coffee on her self as she jumped up. "s***!"   
  
Vaughn quickly grabbed a couple of napkins, tossing them on the table to soak up the liquid while rushing over to Sydney's side, and helping her clean the mess.  
  
Sydney backed away at his touch, nearly tripping over her chair. Vaughn noticed her reaction, and simply handed the napkin to her.   
  
"I'll be back," he said, collecting his papers. "I'll see what I can do."  
  
~*~  
  
**feed back please!!**


	8. chapter 8

**Chapter 8**  
  
A/N: i must apologize for such a late update. this was finished a while ago - but like every good story - an even better beta was behind it.   
  
i won't be updating as frequently - cause of school (stoopid school!) but thanks for your continued support!  
  
love, hugs and kisses -   
  
_dark angel _  
  
  
~.~  
  
"No!" Kendall shouted, his face turning red. "There is absolutely no way you can see her until she talks, Jack."  
  
Jack Bristow and Michael Vaughn stood side by side, facing Director Kendall. Kendall had been enthused about the capture of Sydney Bristow, and wanting to profit from all her knowledge that she had gathered about secret organizations, her boss, and Rambaldi.  
  
"Sir, you saw the tapes of her, you heard our discussion. She won't talk unless Jack is there. Or until she sees him." Vaughn added. "She's a strong person, and she's not going to back down. We don't want to make her talk using force."  
  
"And what do you propose that we tell her? " Kendall retorted. "Jack's cover was that he's an airplane parts salesman, not the damn CIA!"  
  
"We'll tell her the truth. Don't you think that she's been lied to enough?" Jack threw back at him. "I've been lied to, she's been lied to. We need to figure out some things, the sooner the better!"  
  
Kendall glared at Jack angrily, his face tense.   
  
"I will go see her, with or without your authorization," Jack threatened, sticking his face in Kendall's. Snarling at him, Kendall gave a quick nod.  
  
"I swear, Jack, if you and Vaughn don't get any information out of her, I will make sure something is done about it."  
  
Smiling triumphantly, Vaughn led the way to where the prisoner was being held.  
  
~*~  
  
Sydney laid her head on the table, on her arms. She closed her eyes, thinking about the one question that stuck in her mind. _Will you marry me?_ Shuddering, she shivered at the thought. The love she once felt for him was gone, replaced by the sorrow that she felt when they had lost their baby. To have accepted the proposal would've been a mistake, thought Sydney. Sighing heavily, she regrouped her thoughts.   
  
The door creaked open, a squeaking from the hinges.   
  
"Sydney."  
  
Sydney bolted upright in her chair, staring at the figure standing at the door.   
  
"Dad?" she whispered. "Is it really you?" Standing up, she began to walk to him. Jack opened his arms as he welcomed his daughter with a hug. Stroking her hair, he gently comforted her as she cried into his shirt, her shoulders shaking from the overwhelming emotions. Suddenly she broke away from the embrace, fire in her eyes.  
  
"Why are you here dad? How did you know I was alive? I missed you dad. Why are they keeping me here? Who's Vaughn? Why am I being held by the CIA? And why are you with the CIA?" Questions began to pour out of her mouth, waiting for an answer.  
  
"Have a seat sweetheart," Jack said, leading her to a seat and taking the seat beside her. "Where should I begin…."  
~.~  
  
Sydney sat frozen in her chair, looking at the man sitting across from her.   
  
Her father.   
  
Over the past hour, Sydney watched her father choke out words filled with sorrow and pain, as he explained to his daughter what he did, ashamed that he lied. Sydney smiled, shaking her head slowly.   
  
"Dad, I was six. You don't have to be sorry."  
  
Jack Bristow looked up into her choclate brown eyes, smiling as he recognized the same deep eyes of his 6 year old daughter. Sitting quietly, he leaned back, an uncomfortable silence filling the air.  
  
Sydney anxiously twisted her hair between her fingers, momentarily looking up around the room. Her eyes locked with her fathers, and she nodded her head in understanding.  
  
"Where? Who?" Jack choked out. "Who took you away from me. Why are you still even alive? Who do you work for?"  
  
Sydney knew the question the moment his mouth opened.   
  
"Mom." Sydney spoke softly, her voice above a whisper. "I've been with mom all this time. She arranged it."  
  
  
Reaching out across the table, she took his hands into hers, and squeezed it lightly.   
  
"Don't worry Dad, I'm not leaving any time soon. I promise."  
  
~.~  
  
Vaughn watched through the window as Jack painfully told her the truth, about the CIA. The room was filled with emotions, ranging from happiness, joy, grief and anger. Sydney's hand grasped her father's tightly, the tears bottle up in her, streaming down her face.   
  
He watched her cry, wanting to wipe them away, and reassure her that everything was alright.   
  
Irina Derevko.   
  
Vaughn hastily scribbled her name on to his notepad, and picked up the phone.  
  
"Hey Eric? (pause) Can you do me a favor? Start looking up information about Irina Derevko. (Pause). Just do it man. Thanks Weiss."   
  
~.~  
  
Irina sat in her chair, shocked at the news. Sydney had been captured by CIA agents, the ones that had discovered her name.   
  
It was only a matter of time before they traced everything back to her.  
  
Sark paced anxiously in front her, afraid for the first time in his life.   
  
"So, what's the plan? How do we extract her from them?"   
  
"There is no plan. We can't do anything right now. The ball is in their court, and they'll be coming for us. We need to prepare for that."  
  
"What?" Sark yelled, stopping mid-step. "How can we not do anything about her? You're going to let your daughter sit in a CIA prison for the rest of her life?" _I can't let the love of my life slip away! _  
  
"Have a seat," Irina commanded.   
  
Sark willingly sat down, looking up at her. "I lied to her about Cuba. She asked me if I was there on business for you. I also asked her to marry me, Irina. She never got the chance to answer."  
  
Irina's heart sank at his words, staring at him blankly.   
  
"There's nothing we can do. She's in her father's hands now."  
  
~.~  
  
Jack, Vaughn and Weiss sat pouring over Sydney's statements, beginning from her faked death to the moment she was captured. Every question that Jack had about her whereabouts were answered, every sentence a painful reminder of the moments lost with his daughter: stolen by his wife.   
  
Sydney couldn't believe that she was disclosing all this information, but couldn't stop herself from doing so. She had nothing to live for with her mother, and redemption came to her through giving the CIA what they wanted.   
  
In the end, Sydney became like her father - a CIA agent. She moved in with him, being released into the public. But one thing was certain, Sydney Bristow was dead. She had died in a car accident years ago, and despite the fact that she was alive, she would be non-existent in all the government records, except for the CIA.  
  
Sydney agreed to these terms which gave her a chance at freedom, a life that she never had the chance to have.   
  
~.~  
  
Vaughn watched Sydney from across the table, twirling her hair around her finger. She caught him staring, and tucked her hair behind her ears, giving him a shy smile. Vaughn smile in return, making Sydney weak in the knees. _His smile is so incredible, so sexy yet genuine. _  
  
Vaughn was her handler, watching as she went on missions, collecting Rambaldi artifacts for the CIA, the same ones that her mother wanted.  
  
Thinking about her mother, Sydney frowned. The amount of anger that she felt for her couldn't be explained. Her mother had lied to her, it was a simple fact.   
  
"Are you alright?" Vaughn asked, as other CIA agents streamed into the meeting room. His eyes met hers, the warm green eyes full of concern. "You look upset."  
  
"I'm okay, Vaughn." Sydney replied, faking a smile. Vaughn shook his head, smiling.  
  
"You can't fake your smile, I can tell when you're doing it. When you smile, the whole room lights up." Sydney smiled at his comment, her heart less heavy.  
  
"If you ever need to talk, let me know. I'm here for you, Syd. Anytime, anywhere. Just give me a call okay?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
~.~  
  
"Hey Syd!" Eric Weiss greeted her eagerly, watching as she nearly choked on her hot cup of coffee.   
  
"Morning Eric," Sydney said, setting down her coffee and wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin.   
  
"I've got a joke for you, Syd," Weiss continued, grabbing a cup off the counter. "So, a man walks into a bar with a sandwich on his shoulder. The bartender turns, looks at him and says, ''Sorry sir, we don't serve food here!!''   
  
Weiss cracked up with laughter, while Vaughn strolled into the room.   
"Oh no Eric. You're still telling that sandwich joke?" Vaughn gave Sydney a sympathetic look. "Don't listen to any of his jokes, they're all bad."  
  
"Hey," Sydney said, giving him a tiny smile as she handed him an empty cup.   
  
"Thanks," Vaughn said, taking the cup from her. His fingers brushed lightly over hers when he grasped the cup, sending tiny electrical shocks through her body. Sydney ducked her head down as she made her way to her desk, leaving Eric and Vaughn  
  
"Whoa, what just happened there?" Weiss said, bringing Vaughn out of his daze. "There were some funky connections between you two, i saw the sparks flying! Were there sparks flying?"   
  
Vaughn shot Weiss a dirty look.   
  
"Aww geeze," Weiss mumbled, shaking his head.  
  
~.~  
  
so - help me along, review a little? that'll make me smile. 


End file.
